I Fought the Law
by Tarafina
Summary: "Noah, please… I'll be fine! You know daddy's phone number… Please call and inform him that I will be detained at the Lima Police Department."


**Title**: I Fought the Law (And I Won)  
><strong>Category<strong>: Glee  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Humor/Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Puck/Rachel  
><strong>Rating<strong>: Teen  
><strong>Prompt<strong>: When the cops come into Glee, everyone is all "what did you do now, Puckerman" until they are reading Rachel Berry her rights and she's taking the most epic perp walk down the hall. (This girl is bad. ass.) by starfishdancer – puckrachel drabble meme  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 3,350  
><strong>Summary<strong>: "Noah, please… I'll be fine! You know daddy's phone number… Please call and inform him that I will be detained at the Lima Police Department."

**_I Fought The Law (And I Won)_**  
>-11-

They were completely overreacting.

Although, if she were being honest, she had to admire Coach Sylvester's flair for drama...

This was really all Noah's fault. Not that she would rat him out, because as much as this would not look good on her record, she thought she could spin it so that it would appear more like a life lesson, something she could learn from and help broaden her career as a serious actress. Also, because Noah had been through enough and really didn't need any more strikes on his record. And really, if she were being honest, because he was only helping to accomplish _her_ devious plan.

But, should anybody who wasn't a police official or Coach Sylvester herself, this was all Noah Puckerman's fault.

See, Rachel had always been content being the 'good girl.' Sure, she had those short-lived moments where her vengeful side completely overrode any common sense and that image seemed very unrealistic for her. Sending Sunshine Corazon to a crack house was not by far a shining example of her good will toward others. And, she imagined, should the paparazzi of her future ever find out, she might be less than adored by her fans. They would never find out, however, because Rachel Berry knew how to bury a scandal. Still, with this little incident going on her permanent record, she imagined they would have enough fodder to throw her under the bus.

It all began the day before…

_"Stare much?"_

_Drawn from her musings, Rachel looked up and saw Noah's raised brow mirrored across the glass of the display case she was admittedly staring a hole into. His arms were crossed, hands tucked beneath his armpits, lovely arms very much on display. "Hello, Noah…" Her brow furrowed. "Shouldn't you be in Spanish?"_

_He smirked, offering no more answer._

_"I should be in the library," she told him with a sigh, reaching for the handle of her trolley bag. "It's my study block. I have a test tomorrow. And I want to get ahead in—"_

_"So why're you staring at all these trophies?" He moved, leaning against the case even though there was a quite large sign, with Coach Sylvester's sneering face on it, that said nobody should touch, look, or lean on the glass._

_Lips pursed, Rachel turned her gaze back to the largest golden trophy on display, sitting center and brightly shining for attention. "It's not fair…" she finally said._

_He waited, staring at her._

_"That Coach Sylvester, who's quite possibly one of the meanest people to ever live, get all these trophies when we and the glee club have worked _so _hard and yet all our efforts are ignored or underappreciated or laughed at…" She could feel her temper rising, her shoulders bunching up. "Do you know how many hours I spend exercising my vocal chords, Noah?" She looked over at him with big, beseeching eyes. "I am a _winner!_" She frowned. "Not in a Charlie Sheen kind of way, but…" She shook her head, closing her eyes against her mind's wanderings. "You know what I mean…"_

_"I saw the shrine at your house, yeah…" he teased._

_She glared at him before redirecting her gaze to the display case. "These aren't even a _fraction _of what she has… I heard her entire house is wall to wall trophies…" Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. "This is our last year and we're not even allowed to display what few awards we've been given for the rest of the school to see; we either have to hide them away in the choir room or Mr. Shue takes them home so Coach Sylvester can't get at them…" She sighed, pressing a hand to the glass mournfully. "We're not allowed to show them all that we are _not _the losers they believe us to be!" Her hand balled into a fist. "I'm _tired _of being ridiculed an-and underrated!" She stared up at him with a fierce expression. "We deserve our own shelf, Noah! Our own _case!_"_

_He stared at her thoughtfully. "You're preaching to the choir, babe…"_

_Immediately, her ire fled her. "I know… I-I'm sorry for taking my frustration out on you." She reached out, slipping her hand around one of his biceps and squeezing surreptitiously._

_He grinned, standing upright and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "So what are you going to do?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. _

_She stared at his devious eyes in the reflection of the glass, her lips drawn up in a smirk. "You mean… What are _we _going to do?"_

She didn't regret it.

Not when she walked down the halls and saw her and Noah's handiwork or when she heard the gasps and saw the pointing, not even when it got back to her that Coach Sylvester went ballistic and threw a chair through the display case.

When two police officers walked into the choir room, she held her chin high.

"What'd you do now, Puckerman?" Mercedes sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Dude!" Finn turned to look at him, throwing his hands up.

"Are we gonna be on Cops?" Britney asked hopefully, grinning as she looked around for the cameras. "My mom was on Cops twice…"

A few of the gleeks turned to stare at her, distracted by her declaration.

Santana was shaking her head, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at Puck like he was an idiot. "_Eres estúpido_…" she muttered.

The two cops stopped next to Mr. Shue and a very short conversation commenced before he read the paper they were handing him and then turned around with a shocked expression. "Rachel?"

Standing, she took a deep breath. "I regret nothing," she said calmly.

Mr. Shue dropped his face into his hand, shaking his head.

"Rachel Berry, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Wait, _what?_" Santana looked between her and the cops and then laughed. "Is this a joke?" She stared at the others. "Are we being Punk'd?" She started fixing her hair, just in case.

"Hey, you can't arrest her!" Puck said, hopping out of his chair. "You've got no proof!"

One of the cops put a hand up to stop him from getting any closer.

"They have a warrant, Puck," Mr. Shue said, holding it up for him to see.

"Seriously…" Quinn was wide-eyed. "If this is even _real_, what are the charges?"

Coach Sylvester appeared then, looking smug and vengeful. "Breaking and Entering, Trespassing, _Burglary_, _Hate Crime_, _Kidnapping!_" she spat. "And that's just the _beginning!_"

Puck scoffed. "The hell? We—" He stopped at Rachel's glare. "_She_… didn't burglarize anything… And _hate crimes?_" He threw his hands up. "She's a _Jew!_"

"Noah, please," Rachel said, shaking her head. "I'll be fine! You know daddy's phone number… Please call and inform him that I will be detained at the Lima Police Department." She looked up at one of the officers to be certain and when he nodded she returned to looking at Noah appealingly. "Tell him I won't say anything…" Her eyes widened for emphasis. "I won't say a _thing_…"

He snapped his mouth shut and his jaw ticked before he lets out a thick sigh, his nostrils flaring. And the look he gave her then was searing; she could feel it in deep in her belly. She hoped he remembered her back-up plan for just this occasion. She'd only gone over it three times and he got that glazed look when she started interspersing her game plan with various scenes from movies that somewhat resembled the situation.

He nodded. "All right."

"Good." She turned then and held her hands out, wrists up. "I'm ready now, officer."

The two policemen exchanged a look. "If you go peacefully, we have no need to cuff you, ma'am."

She was appalled. "And ruin my dramatic exit?" She stomped a foot. "I demand handcuffs!"

"Put those bracelets on her, boys, or I'll hog tie her myself!" Coach Sylvester snapped, hands on her hips. Eyes narrowed, she stared down at Rachel with venom spitting from her icy blue eyes. "Where are my _babies_, Broadway?"

Rachel met her gaze defiantly. "_Everything _is exactly where it _should _be…"

She snarled in reply before waving her finger in the air. "Get her _outta _here!"

Hands bound in front of her, each police officer took one of her elbows and started walking her out.

"Oh my Gucci," Kurt sighed, before hopping out of his chair and shouting. "Don't let them put you in orange… It does nothing for your complexion!"

The walk down the hallway was exactly what she hoped it would be. People stopped and stared, whispered and pointed, and all the while Rachel kept her chin raised high and her eyes goading them to dare say anything. All noise has ceased to a dull buzzing sound in her ears, but when she looked back over her shoulder she could see Coach Sylvester spitting mad, yelling for all to hear, no doubt coming up with many of her derisive and snappy comebacks. Behind her, she saw the glee club crowding outside the choir room door. Mr. Shue just kept shaking his head and she knew that he was trying to figure out if he should be looking for a different lead singer or if the charges would be dropped in time. The others were baffled and confused and perhaps, even a little amused.

Noah stood apart from them, looking angry and worried and maybe, just a little bit proud.

She smiled at him and then turned back around and decided that if this was her big, attention-getting walk-out, she should really put a little oomph into it.

Swaying her hips and grinning for all to see, she put her all into it as she broke into song…

_Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak,  
>Somewhere in this town,<br>See me and the boys we don't like it,  
>So were getting up and going down…<em>

With a laugh from behind her, she heard Noah pick up the next verse.

_Hiding low looking right to left,  
>If you see us coming I think it's best,<br>To move away do you hear what I say,  
>From under my breath…<em>

Banding together, the gleeks all belted out the chorus in support.

_Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak,  
>Somewhere in the town,<br>Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak,  
>So don't you be around…<em>

"Get that thief out of my school!" Coach Sylvester screeches.

Rachel was shoved out the doors and into the bright sunlight. She walked to the waiting cop car and was carefully placed inside. When she looked back, the school was watching, the gleeks too, and she raised her cuffed hands to give a little wave with her fingers. "It was worth it!" she told them cheerfully.

Good to his word, Noah did in fact call her daddy Leroy and he arrived looking for all to see the powerful layer she knew him to be. But his stern expression shattered when he saw her sitting daintily in a jail cell, learning how to play poker from a woman (although she hesitated to call her that, given the shaved head, heavy tattoos, and the bristly chin she owned) who went by_ Ratchet_.

"Hi daddy!" she greeted, hopping off the bench and circling to see him. "I see Noah informed you of my predicament."

"Informed me of your— _Yes! _He mentioned you were tossed in jail when he called screaming his head off, worried sick!" Leroy reached through the bars and grabbed her in a hug. "Honey… _Why?_" He shook his head. "Whatever possessed you to vandalize your school?"

She sighed, drawing back from him a little so she could stare at him patiently. "It was not _vandalism_, daddy… I was simply correcting a wrong."

He raised a brow. "Rachel… One of your teachers has you up on a lot of very serious charges…" He shook his head. "_Terrorism? Hate crimes?_" He was baffled.

Rachel smiled. "Coach Sylvester is very… _intense_. I'm _sure_ that if you look into her reasons, you'll find that many of these charges are _laughable_, at best…"

"Okay, just…" He took her hands in his. "Tell me what happened!"

She drew in a deep breath and licked her lips. "Well… Yesterday, I was observing the trophy case during my free period… And I noticed, with quite a bit of irritation, that while it was filled with sports trophies and memorabilia, there was nothing there to honor the glee club and its accomplishments… And I _know _that I personally put in a recommendation to Principal Figgins that some of our contributions be added…" She shook her head mournfully. "It became bitterly clear to me though that Coach Sylvester would _not_ let that happen…" She looked up at him fiercely. "Daddy, my club and I deserve recognition…" Her eyes widened. "I only wanted to give that to them…"

He was still frowning. "So you… _broke in _to the school?"

She nodded. "You'd be very proud. I was very stealthy."

"Rachel, honey… You're in _jail_… You couldn't have been _that _stealthy."

She pouted. "Well, it was really my own ego that accomplished that, I think…"

He nodded at her to go on.

"You see, No-, um… _I_, that is, by _myself_…" She stared at him seriously. "Infiltrated the school and then, using various power tools and such, was able to take apart the display case and replace all of Coach Sylvester's many cheerleading trophies with that of New Directions..." She smiled proudly. "I was quite happy with the display I made, actually. It was very colorful and there were an array of stars of all sizes." She waved her fingers at him. "I took pictures of it to show you and dad; I thought you'd be quite proud of the coloring and symmetry of it all…" She nodded. "And then, well, because you know how I like sign my work… I placed a very small, _tiny _really, gold star in the bottom left corner of the case…" She sighed. "So, you see, it was probably my grandiose use of stars that gave away exactly who it was that devised such a devious plan." She shrugged. "And then, as for the other trophies and medals, well, I put those elsewhere… for safe-keeping."

He blinked at her. "Rachel… You couldn't use _power-tools _to save your life… And what do you _mean_, safe-keeping?" He shook his head, exasperated. "Coach Sylvester is charging you with _kidnapping!_"

She scoffed. "That's impossible… Daddy, how can I kidnap an inanimate object?" Her face screwed up with confusion.

"She said that by ruining her display it was an act of _war_ against her, the school and the Cheerios…" He threw his hands up. "She says what you did was an act or _terrorism!_ A—A _hate crime _against her and her Cheerios!"

Rachel reached over to soothe him, rubbing his shoulders. "Daddy, daddy… I think you're using your father-thinking cap…" She reached up and removes his imaginary hat and replaced it with a different one, that she happened to find in his jacket pocket and dramatically unfolded. "It's time to start thinking like a _lawyer_ now," she told him frankly. "How many of these charges can she prove beyond a reasonable doubt?"

He nodded at her, rubbing his chin before he started pacing. "Well… You did trespass!"

She nodded agreeably.

"And you did technically break and enter into the school..."

She couldn't argue with that.

"As for the burglary, well…" He raised a brow at her. "I'm sure if you just _returned _her trophies—"

Her face darkened. "Not until she agrees to display some of the glee clubs achievements!"

"Rachel!" he sighed.

"No!" She stomped her foot. "I went through a lot of hard work to get this club what it deserves! If I have to serve time in a jail, I will!" She waved back at Ratchet. "I'm already making allies, daddy! In the forever true words of Gloria Gaynor—" She held up a fist in righteous indignation. "_I will survive!_"

Closing his eyes, Leroy took a deep breath. "Okay… Okay, I will talk to this Coach Sylvester and try to make her see reason on the charges… I will also appeal to her sense of decorum that she allow your glee club to house some of your achievements in the case."

Rachel smiled, reaching out to smooth out his jacket. "I appreciate your sense of loyalty, daddy… But Coach Sylvester won't agree to those demands."

He frowned. "Then what is it you want me to do here, Pumpkin?"

She smirked then. "Tell her… That if she ever wishes to see her precious _babies _again… She will cease and desist this attack on my person…" She nodded plainly. "And also let my club have its _own _display cabinet."

"Rachel… You're asking me, a _lawyer_, to basically _blackmail _your teacher…" He stared at her searchingly. "Have you _lost _your mind?"

She tisked, wrinkling her nose. "Daddy, don't you know me at all?" She shook her head. "_Trust me_…" Her eyes widened with emphasis. "This is not my first blackmailing endeavor."

He sighed, but she saw defeat written in his face.

Rachel Berry was released from custody exactly two hours later.

As soon as she received her cell phone back, she texted two words.

_Return half._

One hour later, half of the trophies shown in the display case were returned to their rightful owner. Coach Sylvester walked into her office to see them covering her desk.

It wasn't until the second display case was built and New Directions had their achievements placed inside that the other half was returned. It took some time, Coach Sylvester was by no means the type of woman who liked to admit defeat, but eventually Rachel got her display case.

As she stood in the hallway, smiling brightly at the shiny trophies, the banner for their 12th place win at Nationals and the group picture, an arm slid around her waist and she looked up at her accomplice.

"Not bad, Rach…"

She rested her head against Noah's shoulder. "Perhaps a little bad…" She grinned. "I've had a very accomplished teacher in the ways of badassness."

He smirked. "True… But _next time_…" He raised a brow. "No gold stars."

Indignant, she cried, "They're my _signature_, Noah! They're a _metaphor!_"

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her pouting lips. "Yeah, well, you get your ass tossed in jail again and that's gonna be one metaphor that doesn't come true."

With a sigh, she looked up at him. "Thank you…" She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. "I couldn't have done any of this without you…"

He half-grinned down at her. "Your dads totally know it was me…"

She nodded. "I'm afraid I'm not very handy… And you _are_ the only person in my life that I would trust to assist me in something of this magnitude..."

His lips quirked proudly. "Cool."

She smiled. "It was really very exciting, wasn't it?" She bit her lip as accomplishment welled up inside her. "Not something I think anybody will ever forget…"

He laughed, hugging her tight. "You know you're on Sylvester's shit list for like, _life_, right?"

"Yes…" She blew out a breath and stared on at the display happily. "Still very worth it."

"Totally."

Of course, eleven years later when her first Tony went missing and she'd already badgered her husband repeatedly for where it might be, she knew Coach Sylvester had gotten her revenge. Noah agreed and they were both a little amused to find it sitting in the New Directions display case with a post-it attached. _Well done, Broadway… _

She imagined, on Coach Sylvester's shit list or not, the woman had to admire her gumption. And with that, they were even.

[**End.**]


End file.
